


Ongaku No Kokoro (The Heart of Music)

by aegicheezu



Category: Jrock, Malice Mizer, X JAPAN
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 15:25:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13344057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aegicheezu/pseuds/aegicheezu
Summary: Heian-kyo; Camui Gakuto is a beautiful young musician recently acquired by the Emperor. He catches the eye of Hayashi Yoshiki, one of the Emperor’s favourite and most talented musicians. Yoshiki quickly grows jealous of how the Emperor fawns over his new attendant; but Gakuto can see beyond the older man’s jealousy for what it truly is: love.





	1. Gagaku (雅楽) Elegant Music

Tonight, again, Yoshiki had been summoned by the Emperor to play. He took special care in preparing his face and chose the colours of his robes carefully; after all, the seasons were changing, and one always has to be mindful of the environment. He settled on a selection of red robes fading into pink and white at the hems; a gradient suitable for the warming weather that summer would bring. He smoothed a delicate hand over his pinned hair and wished the fashion was different; _how I’d love to wear it down occasionally,_ he thought. _It’s grown so long._ He looked at himself in the mirror, assessing the small wrinkles that had begun to appear at the corners of his eyes. _I’m getting old,_ he mused. He playfully patted the sides of his face, mimicking the way the court ladies tried to keep their skin youthful. _I wonder if that works._ He wondered what sort of mood the emperor would be in today; he had not seen much of him, these last few evenings.

Luckily, the Emperor was always happy to see him; he often said that Yoshiki’s music was sweeter than an evening spent with a woman – Yoshiki always chuckled and accepted his praise graciously, though in truth, he did not know anything about spending nights with women. His affections had always been turned towards men, ever since he could remember; he took great care to conceal this aspect of himself from those in the palace with prying eyes. Some time ago, there had been another musician at the palace – Yoshiki had loved him so very much. He thanked the gods every day that his love had been returned tenfold. 

Matsumoto Hideto – a clever and talented biwa player who often sang his own melodies. They played together at the pleasure of the Emperor; no one at court suspected the true nature of their relationship. How many nights had Yoshiki rested his head in the lap of the other man while they sang together softly, as the moon rose higher and higher in the sky? They had promised to be together forever; but, that was not to be. Hideto had died suddenly, many years back. The court doctors said it was a sickness of some kind; the Onmyoji were called to cleanse the body and ensure his soul had a safe journey to heaven. In order to keep Hideto’s biwa, Yoshiki had paid the court Onmyoji handsomely – they had insisted on burning all of the man’s possessions in order to cleanse his quarters and ward off any vengeful spirits. Yoshiki didn’t believe in any of that, and indeed all it took for the head Onmyoji to be persuaded were three bolts of Chinese silk brocade. Though he had bribed the head Onmyoji for it, even now, Yoshiki could not bear to play the other man’s biwa. Instead, it stood proudly in a corner of his room, a reminder of the other man and the past they once shared. Looking over at the biwa now, Yoshiki smiled and sighed. He glanced at himself once more in his mirror, took hold of his own biwa, and made his way to see the Emperor.

Over the many years that he had been in the Emperor’s employ, his quarters had changed location – there was a time when going to see the Emperor took almost ten minutes of winding around the palace rooms; as the Emperor grew fonder of Yoshiki’s music and more demanding of regular performances, he moved the musician closer and closer. Everyone in the palace knew how much the Emperor adored his artists, so they never thought much of his eccentricities, moving his attendants around every few months. Now, Yoshiki’s quarters were mere steps from the Emperor’s rooms; a high honor usually reserved exclusively for his women and the Head Onmyoji.

*

“What will you play for me this evening, Yoshiki?” The Emperor sat relaxed, reclined on his silk cushioned dais. His favourite wife, Lady Sonoko, was present this evening. She looked on, smiling. She was Yoshiki’s favourite, of all the Emperor’s women – he often spent time playing for her and the palace children; and encouraged her to sing along. She had a beautiful voice.

“I have been practicing a new melody,” Yoshiki began. He thought about gaining further favor with the Emperor’s wife, and quickly added as naturally as he could, “inspired by the Lady Sonoko.”

As expected, she began to blush and quickly hid her cheeks behind her fan; the Emperor smiled and bade him play.

Obeying, Yoshiki turned his head down and closed his eyes. He began to play a soft tune, slightly improvising – _I should make it more feminine, since I said it’s for her,_ he thought. He often performed this way, improvising as he went on. Yoshiki did not much like to write down his melodies; he found that he was able to memorize them well; a trick that he must have picked up from Hideto, all those years ago. He smiled fondly, remembering the other man’s large brown eyes, constantly glittering. As he plucked the strings, he allowed himself to remember happier times; Hideto playing with his long black hair as they rested in his room together, laughing and drinking sake under a full moon. Having to stifle moans of pleasure in the dead of night for fear of waking the guards… Yoshiki felt an ache in his heart, as he continued to play. Since Hideto, he had not allowed himself to even look at another man, for fear of betraying his dead lover.

After some time, he noticed Lady Sonoko beginning to nod off. The Emperor noticed, and, laughing, he held up his hand to halt Yoshiki’s playing.

“It appears that my wife has fallen asleep,” he teased, causing the blush to rise again in her youthful cheeks. She laughingly protested, praising Yoshiki’s soft melodies.

“Shall I play something livelier, your Highness?” He addressed the Lady directly, who smiled at the recognition.

“I fear I am too tired this evening, Yoshiki,” she said, genuinely. “I have been feeling very tired, lately. I apologize.”

“Do not apologize!” Yoshiki replied. “I will humbly take my leave of you, and allow you to rest. May I return to play for you tomorrow, when you are feeling better?”

“Yes, you may,” Lady Sonoko said after a moment’s deliberation. At that, she left the Emperor alone with Yoshiki. Once the Emperor was certain she was out of earshot, he beckoned Yoshiki over to him.

“I suspect she is with child again,” he whispered. “Her face has grown fuller; do you not think so?” He was beaming.

Yoshiki smiled, and politely cast his eyes downward. “I do not know, your Highness,” he replied. “But perhaps it is so. Shall I visit her more often, in that case?”

“Yes, perhaps,” the Emperor nodded and stroked his beard. “That will be all this evening, Yoshiki. Thank you.”

Yoshiki bowed deeply and took his leave of the Emperor. He gingerly walked back to his quarters, careful not to make too much noise as he passed by Lady Sonoko’s chamber.

As he passed by the Emperor’s second wife’s rooms, he heard laughter. He paused outside the papered door and listened to their giggles, like delicate flowers in the wind.

“He’s bringing a new musician to the palace, you know,” a voice said. Was it Lady Tomiko?

A maid, judging by her provincial accent, replied, “I wonder why.”

“I heard,” the Lady added, “that he is a great talent. He comes highly recommended.”

Yoshiki leaned in closer. _A new musician? Am I not enough…?_

“I wonder,” the maid questioned, “if he will be as gentle and handsome as Hayashi-san.”

He perked up at that; he was favored by the maids and attendants – he often played for them in the small hours of the morning as they went about their duties in the kitchen and laundry quarters. He’d heard enough; quietly, he tiptoed away and retreated to his rooms, grinning at the praise.

Once he’d returned to his rooms and began to undress, though, uncertainty crept across his face. _A new musician?_ He thought again. _I wonder what he will be like… since Hideto, there has only been me. It’s been lonely, true… but why has the Emperor sent for someone new? Am I not enough, these days?_ He ran a hand through his long, thick black hair, letting the pins fall to the floor carelessly. He twirled the strands in his fingers, sighing. _I wonder what he will be like…_


	2. Gigaku (伎楽) Masked Dance

Camui Gakuto’s palanquin arrived at the palace’s Suzaku Gate; he glanced through the window-slats and marveled at the stone guardians. He had never been to the palace before, having grown up outside the city. His father was the Lord of the neighboring township, so he was able to be schooled and was literate; Gakuto had discovered his talent for music at an early age, and his parents spared no expense on lessons for him. When an attendant to the Emperor was in the area on an errand, he heard Gakuto playing and immediately told the Emperor of what he had seen; soon after, he was summoned to the Palace. _I wonder what it’s really like in there?_ He thought happily. _I hope I will fit in…_

He stepped out of his carriage and made his way to meet the Emperor. Taking a deep breath, he said a quick prayer to safeguard his time at the palace.

*

“At last, you’ve come!” The Emperor’s kind voice boomed through his throne room. His smile put Gakuto at ease. “I have so been looking forward to hearing your famed biwa melodies.”

Gakuto bowed deeply. _Do I speak up? What do I do?_ He wondered frantically. Thankfully, he did not have to worry long – Yoshiki appeared behind him and took his place next to him, bowing. _Who’s this?_

“Ah, Yoshiki! You’re here too. Excellent! Rise, please, both of you!” The men obeyed and rose slowly. Gakuto snuck a quick glance in Yoshiki’s direction. _He’s so handsome!_ He remarked. Yoshiki was not as curious; he kept his gaze fixed toward the emperor, ever the professional.

“Now, you two will have much to discuss, I’m sure,” the Emperor began, “but for now, I’d like to hear how you sound together. Ukon!” he beckoned his servant. “Bring the two biwas!” His servant dashed away and returned shortly with two instruments – the men, taking them from Ukon, looked at each other at last. Yoshiki’s mouth fell open slightly, taking in the beauty of the much younger man. _How strange!_ He was stunned. _I have never seen anyone look quite so pretty before…_ He quickly composed himself and smiled at the other man.

“Shall we?” he motioned for the other man to sit next to him. Gakuto smiled back and did as he was told; he began to tune the biwa to his liking. Yoshiki sat down next to him and did the same. He glanced over at the younger man. _How handsome he is! I cannot help but be jealous of that youthful face he has…_

“What would your highness have us play?” Yoshiki asked, trying to keep his voice calm and authoritative in the presence of his new partner.

“Oh, anything,” the Emperor replied. “Why don’t you begin the piece, and Gakuto will come in when he is ready.”

 _Ah, that’s his name? How pretty. It’s musical, that suits him._ “As you wish,” he replied, and began to pluck at his strings. He settled on a tune that he and Hideto had played many times; it had been a favourite of the Emperor in those days, and hopefully still was. _I don’t want to lose my place in court because of this newcomer,_ he thought. _Is that selfish?_

After a few minutes, Gakuto began to pluck at his strings. Yoshiki was pleasantly surprised at how quickly he had picked up the melody of the song; though, a vindictive part of him had hoped that the young man would make a mistake and upset the Emperor. Though he could feel jealousy growing within him at the mere sight of the younger man, he could not help but be taken with his ethereal beauty. _How troublesome,_ he reprimanded himself. _Don’t get distracted! He’s your rival, from now on! Focus._

*

Some time later, Yoshiki lay in his room, falling in and out of sleep on the soft tatami mats. He was certain the Emperor would not call on him again that day – the Emperor had dismissed him, and kept Gakuto in the throne room to play on, which had hurt his pride a little. He dutifully returned to his rooms and unpinned his hair, changed into thinner robes. He tried to sort out what he was feeling; for years, he had been the Emperor’s favourite. Suddenly, he felt threatened by this newcomer, a younger, more beautiful musician. Had this been what Hideto had felt, when Yoshiki first came to the palace? Hideto had been playing for the Emperor for a few years before he had arrived. _Did you feel these daggers of jealousy, too, my love?_ He blinked at the cedar beams above him. _I know I should not start this new… friendship?_ He agonized a moment over what to call this new connection. _Yes, perhaps; I know I should not start this new friendship with a jealous heart, it is inauspicious. But I cannot help it! I have begun to feel so old… and he is so beautiful! How can I not be envious of his youthful skin, his skillful fingers? The way he played for the Emperor was so lovely, it took all my strength not to simply give up and allow him to take over. How pathetic._

Yoshiki’s self-pity was interrupted by a sweet voice at his papered door.

“Hayashi-san?” Gakuto’s voice was low and sweet. _Such a deep voice, for someone who looks so like a woman,_ Yoshiki remarked. _How strange._ “May I come in?”

 _I suppose I have no choice in the matter_ , he thought. “Yes, come in.” He had forgotten himself in the moment; his hair was unpinned and he was not formally dressed. As soon as the door slid open and revealed Gakuto, still in court finery, he cursed himself. Gakuto noticed Yoshiki’s unpinned hair, a mass of thick black hair cloaking his shoulders; he did not say anything about it, but fought a rising blush. It was not often he was in the presence of handsome men in a state of undress.

“I have just finished my audience with the Emperor,” he spoke softly, still smiling warmly. “He asked me to play for him after you left, my fingers are sore,” he looked expectantly at Yoshiki, hoping for a laugh. _Please don’t be cold to me,_ he pleaded. _I have no allies here._

Yoshiki was touched by his attempt to break the ice; he smiled back. “He is a good man,” he motioned for Gakuto to sit with him. “He is kind, and rewards us well. Do not worry.” He smoothed a hand through his hair. “It seems we are to be partners,” he looked the other man up and down, trying to affect authority. “Tell me about yourself, Camui Gakuto.” He let his name sit on his tongue, and spoke it slowly.

At that, Gakuto seemed to relax a little. He told Yoshiki about his childhood on the outskirts of the city, as the child of a nobleman. He spoke about his mother, who died when he was little; about his music teacher who used to hit him when he made a mistake on the biwa. Yoshiki listened intently – half because he really was intrigued by this young man, and half because his jealous heart was searching for a weakness. _How awful of me,_ he reprimanded, _that I should seek to ruin this boy? He has only just arrived, and I seem to be intent on his downfall._

“Hayashi-san,” Gakuto asked after a while, “how long have you been at the palace?”

“Oh, please don’t use my last name. We will become too close for that,” Yoshiki said off-handedly. “Call me Yoshiki, please. When we are not in front of the Emperor, we can dispense with all of that.” He studied the other man’s smooth face. _Not a single crow’s foot! How annoying._

“Alright,” Gakuto agreed. “Yoshiki.” He nervously adjusted his robes, suddenly self-conscious.

“I have been with the Emperor almost twenty years,” he began, affecting a story-telling voice. “I came to the palace when I was just a young man of nineteen. My father was a musician for the court, and when he passed away, I was promoted to this position on recommendation. His last wish, I suppose. He and the Emperor were very close.”

“All this time,” Gakuto said softly, almost in wonderment, “you’ve lived in the palace?”

“Yes,” Yoshiki explained, “I only leave the palace grounds when the Emperor travels, and wishes me to accompany him.” He looked at the other man. “I expect he’ll want to take you along now, too, since he seems so enamored with your talents.” He had meant it as a compliment, but something in his voice seemed to give away his true feelings; Gakuto looked hurt for a moment, before blinking away his disappointment and changed the subject. Yoshiki immediately regretted his tone.

“Yoshiki,” he said quickly, smiling to hide his hurt feelings. “Do you like it here? What is your favourite area of the palace?” _How you wound me, so quickly after our first meeting! How can someone so beautiful be so cutting with their words?_ He glanced around the room nervously, and his eyes fell upon the tea set that had been steeping. He got up quickly and brought the tray to Yoshiki, and began to pour out two cups of tea. Yoshiki, seeing how he had flustered the younger man, felt bad. He opened his mouth to apologize, but quickly shut it again when Gakuto looked up from what he was doing and offered him a cup of tea, still warm. He accepted it, and left his hand on the young man’s for a beat longer than usual. Pink began to rise in Gakuto’s cheeks at the touch of the other man. He allowed himself the intimate pleasure of looking into his eyes for a moment; _how brown and deep they are!_ He noted. _How can someone with such soulful eyes be cruel? Perhaps it is just an act, to scare me off._

“What’s on your mind, really?” Yoshiki asked, taking a long sip of tea. _I should be more careful with my tone,_ he thought. _I do not want to make an enemy of him, so soon after we have met. I have so few confidantes in this place, since Hideto left me…_

Gackt thought for a moment. “If I am honest with you,” he took a deep breath. “I am nervous. I have only ever played for the noblemen and women of my small township; it is a miracle of the gods that one of the Emperor’s attendants even came across my path. I feel very… small.”

“Small?”

“As though I am insignificant. That my coming here was an accident,” he sipped his tea, locking eyes with Yoshiki again. “I do not want to disappoint my father. I want to stay here and please the Emperor.”

“That is a noble thing,” Yoshiki nodded. “I am certain you will do your best,” he smiled, genuinely this time.

“Can we,” Gakuto ventured, looking up at the other man through long lashes, “can we be friends, Yoshiki?”

“Of course,” he replied, “why wouldn’t we?”

“I grew up listening to my sister’s stories of palace intrigues, about courtesans competing for the royal family’s favor,” he explained. “I suppose I am afraid of those dramas, if they are real.” He was trying to be stoic, Yoshiki noted, but there was an innocent fear in his eyes that endeared the older man to him.

Yoshiki laughed, a soft windchime laugh. “It’s nothing like those stories your sisters have told you, Gakuto. They were teasing you,” he reached over and patted the younger man’s hand. “The court nobles have their own entanglements, but us? We are friends now. Do not worry.”

Seeing how soft and vulnerable the younger man was, Yoshiki felt his jealousy begin to melt away; those feelings seemed to be replaced with an urgent need to protect. _How naïve and sweet,_ he thought. _I should not have been so quick to attack him._ He slid closer to the younger man and refilled his cup of tea. _Is that… flowers?_ He tried to discern what his perfume was; but he could not place it. He met the other man’s gaze, and they sat watching each other for a moment.

 _Even close like this, I cannot see a single wrinkle! How lucky he is_ , Yoshiki thought. _His eyes are so deep and brown; just like Hideto’s, aren’t they?_

 _This man,_ Gakuto thought. _Why does he study me so? Could it be, he still thinks of me as a rival? I would not want to upset him… he is so kind and handsome! I cannot help but be drawn to him…_

The early evening sky turned from pink to black as the men grew more comfortable in each other’s company; they shared stories of their childhood and eventually, traded the tea for sake.

*

Some weeks passed; Yoshiki had grown rather fond of the younger man, and found himself almost missing his company when they parted ways in the evenings. _I suppose he’s not just a brat after all,_ he thought playfully. _Though, I am glad he is not so full of himself… like I was, when I first arrived here. How Hideto hated me at the start! I thought I knew everything, because of who my father was. How silly it is, now…_

As he combed his fingers through his hair, he began to sing a song that Hideto had often sung to him in the small hours of the morning. 

_Say good bye, just good bye_

_Without fear of getting hurt, good bye_

_Let's throw away all the feelings_

_That we can't hold in our hands._

_Please songs, tell me true_

_No matter where I go_

_Your melody will keep on playing_

_Even if one day I lose my way_

_If I can sing, I will walk on with grace._

 

“That’s beautiful,” a voice in the doorway interrupted him. Yoshiki looked back at the entrance to his room; there Gakuto stood, poking his head through the opened paper door rather comically, hair loose. “Can I come in?” Yoshiki, blushing a little at having been caught singing, smiled and let him in.

“What was that?” Gakuto asked, helping himself to the sake on Yoshiki’s writing desk. “It was lovely.”

“A song,” Yoshiki answered sarcastically, earning him a playful punch from the younger man. He laughed. “It’s a song an old friend taught me.”

“Another musician?”

“Yes, he was.”

“Was?” Gakuto asked, confused. “Did he stop playing?”

“He died, some years ago,” Yoshiki explained. “Almost ten years, now.” Gakuto’s face immediately darkened, ashamed he had pressed on so carelessly. Yoshiki noticed his change in expression and said quickly, “It’s alright. He died young, but he lived a good life. We were very happy together.”

“Ah,” Gakuto realized he’d picked up on something. “You were…” he looked at Yoshiki for confirmation. “Lovers?” He ventured carefully.

Yoshiki sipped at his sake. _I shouldn’t have said anything,_ he reprimanded himself. _Though, it’s too late now, I suppose. I may as well tell the truth._ “Yes,” he replied softly. “Not a single soul in this palace knew. So please…” he looked into the other man’s eyes.

Gackt smiled, understanding. “I won’t tell a soul, of course,” he moved closer to Yoshiki, and lowered his voice. “Men like us,” he locked eyes. “Need to keep our secrets.” _Do you understand me?_ He wondered. _I too…_

Yoshiki’s eyes widened. _He, also…?_ He gulped and looked into the other man’s eyes. “Gakuto, I did not know…”

“Because I did not say anything.”

Yoshiki signed, relief. “How strange,” he spoke quietly so as not to arouse suspicion, “that I should feel so much more at ease with you, knowing that.” He smiled, relaxed. Gakuto returned his smiling expression, and poured more sake for the older man.

“I am glad we are friends, Yoshiki,” he said after a while. “I feel like we have grown closer.”

“I’ll drink to that,” he replied, resting a hand gently on the other man’s shoulder.

*

That evening was the last time the two men were friendly with each other. The Full Moon Viewing event was coming; and the Emperor had suggested – no, decreed – that the two would face off against each other for position of Head Musician; and by so doing, win the favor of the Emperor and his first wife completely. Yoshiki held seniority both in years and in experience; but the Emperor was eccentric and made strange decisions. It was not done in malice, he’d said, just a little sport.

But Yoshiki viewed it as much more than that; he had begun to feel his age creeping up on him, and with the arrival of the young, beautiful musician, that creeping fear had only worsened. What made matters worse was that Gakuto did not seem to take the competition as seriously; he laughed it off, and made fun of Yoshiki’s sudden change in moods – even affectionately calling him ojīsan. Yoshiki had been wounded at that – _“don’t call me that!”_ he’d shot back, _“you’re just a child, you know nothing!”_ – Gakuto had been taken aback by his reaction and had retreated to his quarters, ashamed of having upset the older man. As a result, he did not visit Yoshiki in the evenings anymore; and the Emperor only called for them individually, rather than as a pair. So, it had been some days since they had seen each other face-to-face. They busied themselves preparing compositions for the celebration, enduring self-imposed isolation in their quarters. On the rare occasion they would be called out to play for the Emperor or one of his wives, handmaid’s chatter could be heard behind papered walls. Apparently, news of their fight and renewed rivalry had become the talk of the palace; Yoshiki did not care to get involved, instead relying on his most trusted attendant to relay important new gossip. What melodies Gakuto might be working on, how many times the Emperor requested his presence, even reporting back how Lady Sonoko spoke of him, fueling his growing jealousy.

This evening though, Yoshiki seemed too tired to indulge his jealous heart with thoughts of the perfect revenge. He lay on the soft tatami mats, his sleeping yukata open at the chest, hair loose and falling around his face, covering it like an onyx mantle. Sighing deeply, he turned onto his side and faced the wall where Hideto’s biwa sat, keeping watch.

 _How will I win back the Emperor’s affections?_ He wondered, almost asking Hideto’s spirit for help. _He is younger than I, and more naturally gifted. I was nowhere near as talented as he is, when I was his age. How annoying… and his pretty face mocks me in with its smooth, agelessness! Why is it, when I close my eyes at night, I see his smirking face?_

He shut his eyes and, as if mocking him, Gakuto’s face appeared to him in the darkness. _There you are,_ he chastised, _always watching me with those soulful eyes of yours, willing me to make a mistake!_

*

Gakuto sighed and poured another cup of sake. He too was in his rooms for the evening, but he did not seem as pressed as Yoshiki; the Full Moon celebration would be held in a few nights, and his newly crafted melodies were all but completed; _just a few more changes here and there, and they’ll be perfect… still, I wonder what he is doing, now…? Is he still angry with me? I have not seen him for so long._ Gakuto ran a hand through his long black hair. _I don’t think I could handle it, if he never spoke to me again. I regret making fun of him._

 _“You’re just a child! You know nothing!”_ Yoshiki’s words echoed in his ears.

“Nothing, huh?” He wondered aloud, drinking his sake. He shook his head. “If only you knew the truth,” he whispered. Years ago, Gakuto too had lost someone. Kamimura Ukyō had been a childhood friend and treasured lover of the young man, until he passed away in his sleep some years ago. The loss still stung him, for he had not heard about his lover’s passing until a week later. He felt like he had been robbed of the peace that saying a proper goodbye would have given him; how he cried and cried, for weeks! He shunned food and visitors, grew thin and depressed. It had been such a shock to his system that he had even stopped speaking. It was a few months before he’d begun to feel like himself again – his elder sister knew how deeply he and Ukyō loved each other, and persuaded him to return to playing music as a way to cope with his loss. He took his sister’s advice and took solace in music, though it was some time before his voice returned.

 _Do you miss me, from heaven?_ He looked up at the wooden beams above him. _Do not be cross with me, Uky_ _ō… I fear my heart is giving way to feelings for another. But… he is cruel to me, so unlike you were… even so, I suspect his cruelty comes from something else. I wonder if he looks at me like I look at him?_ He sighed. _What good is that now? He won’t even speak to me._

*

At last, the evening of the Full Moon Viewing was upon them. Yoshiki’s room was littered with half-completed sheet music, pages splotched with ink where he grew impatient. He had given up on penning the perfect song, and instead busied himself with dressing for the occasion. He donned robes in the Emperor’s favourite colours, hoping to convey his loyalty. He dabbed rose perfume on his wrists and behind his ears; the Empress’ favourite flower. Feeling bold, he decided to make up his face, taking inspiration from Noh masks. He gently powered his face, not wanting to completely whiten his skin – then, he enlisted the help of one of the chambermaids to draw on his eyes in black.

“How pretty!” She exclaimed as she worked. “Your skin is so smooth, Hayashi-san!”

“You think so?” He smiled back. He was comfortable with the servants in the palace, and was glad for their help when he needed.

He finished dressing, and, taking his biwa, he proceeded to the Emperor’s gardens for the ceremony.

*

Gakuto was nervous. He bit at his thumb, running his other hand through his hair, still unpinned. His leg bounced uncontrollably. One of his attendants sat expectantly by the door, ready to help him dress as soon as he requested it. For the evening, he had chosen deep blue robes, each one fading in colour into a robin’s egg blue – Ukyō’s favourite colours.

“Begging your pardon,” his servant said at last, “but you must dress soon, the Emperor will be expecting you, Camui-san.” His voice was gentle; Gakuto was glad of it. He nodded, and rose. The servant entered and began to help him prepare for the event. _Just when I had begun to feel at home here, I had to go and mess it up. How could I have been so stupid? I don’t want to hurt my reputation, but perhaps I should throw the competition?_ Gakuto’s mind began to swim as his attendant dressed him; he did not notice the time pass.

“Young master?” his servant questioned, as he smoothed Gakuto’s hair into place. “It is almost time.”

Gakuto snapped out of it and smiled as best as he could. “Yes,” he replied, “let us go.”


	3. Etenraku (越天楽) Music Brought From Heaven

The evening air was cool; a welcome reprieve from the angry summer sun. All the Emperor’s women were in attendance; Lady Sonoko resplendent in soft pink robes, the perfect colour for an expectant mother. Sitting in front of the royal family, Yoshiki and Gakuto could not even make eye contact; but, both men snuck glances at the other when each weren’t looking.

“As a special treat,” the Emperor began, standing, “I have decided to hold a contest! Tonight, we will see which musician the gods have blessed with more talent. The winner will be decided by my beautiful Empress, Sonoko.” He paused for applause, which was readily given. “We will have you two draw straws to see who will play first.”

 _If Lady Sonoko is to decide, then perhaps I have already won!_ Yoshiki hoped. He rose and took his place next to the standing Emperor, who held two sticks in his hand. Gakuto met them on the center dais.

“May the gods be with you,” the Emperor smiled his beatific smile. “The most important thing to remember, you two,” he addressed them personally, bidding them come closer. “Is to enjoy yourselves. This is just a bit of fun. Neither of you will lose favor with anyone, least of all with me. You have both brought me much joy.”

Yoshiki smiled and bowed deeply at the praise. “Thank you,” he said softly. “I am glad to hear of it.”

Gakuto followed suit. “Thank you, your Highness,” he replied.

“Now, choose!” The Emperor commanded jovially. He held out his hand with the sticks tightly held; Yoshiki drew first – the stick was long. Then, Gakuto drew – his stick was longer. _So, the young one is to go first,_ he thought. _Perhaps that is to my advantage. I can change my music to best him_. He smiled at Gakuto, a final show of civility. Gakuto, unaware of the other man’s plot, smiled back. _Are you no longer cross with me?_ He hoped.

With that, the two men took their places on either side of the dais and readied their compositions. Yoshiki took a deep breath as he braced himself to hear what Gakuto had prepared.

Gakuto, though nervous, tried hard not to let it show. Not only was he performing for the Emperor in such a public way, but he would be playing for a man who he had come – through no fault of his own, he thought – to love, almost. _How did this happen?_ He questioned. _How could I let myself fall for such a man? He can’t even bear to look at me, and yet, my heart leaps for him. How stupid of me… will he guess this song is for him?_

He began to play; a soulful tune, slow at first, then picking up pace; as he plucked at the biwa he took care to do so lightly in places, decisively in others. _Can you hear what I am trying to say?_ He wondered. _Please forgive my youthful impertinence, all I want is for you to look at me again, and smile. Please._ He felt bold, and looked up from his Biwa and held the gaze of the other man who, he noted, had been staring at him.

*

 _How beautiful he is,_ Yoshiki thought. _When he is not paying attention, and just playing… he is so pretty. I can almost forgive his rudeness, looking at him like this. Perhaps I have been too cold to him. After all, he was a newcomer here, and considered me a friend. And I turned my back on him, just when things were becoming comfortable. How despicable of me! I regret that._

As the younger man played, he could not take his eyes off of him. Yoshiki stared at his youthful face, no longer cursing its beauty; instead, he marveled at how straight his nose was, how pale and smooth his skin. He became entranced by the thinness of his fingers, and how deftly they plucked at the biwa in his lap. _After tonight, regardless of who wins,_ he thought, _I will make amends. It is inauspicious to hold grudges; not good for the heart._

At that moment, Gakuto looked over at him. _Ah! He has caught me watching him… I wonder, Gakuto, can you tell how sorry I am? You are playing so beautifully… I can only apologize for how I have treated you. Please forgive me._

*

Uproarious applause. Gakuto finished his piece, and bowed deeply. His brow glistened a little, the effort clear to see. Yoshiki couldn’t help but smile at him, seeing how hard he worked. Gakuto returned his smile, and bowed in his direction, acknowledging him. _Please, let us be friends again,_ he asked with his eyes, wondering if Yoshiki understood. _I cannot bear to lose you._

After a few words from the Emperor, who was clearly a little drunk, it was Yoshiki’s turn. He overheard the palace women remarking on how handsome he looked with makeup; his worries about seeming old compared to the other man slowly faded with every kind word. _How fragile I’ve become!_ He chastised. _Needing validation from these people… though, it’s a nice thing, isn’t it? To be seen as beautiful, even at my age?_

He took a deep breath and began to play.

*

Lady Sonoko seemed like she rather enjoyed the attention; all eyes were on her as she prepared to reveal her verdict. After all, a woman with child was usually kept away from sight and she spent most every day sequestered in her rooms, taking as much rest as possible. Yoshiki looked on, lovingly. _What a kind soul she is,_ he mused. _She has always been so good to me._ He recalled when, a few months ago, he had fallen ill, and Lady Sonoko had come to visit with him and brought packets of Chinese herbs for him to take. They often had private chats, away from the Emperor and her servants; she treated him like a friend, an equal. _I suppose,_ he thought, _that is a perk of this life; living in the palace for so long, you become friends with powerful people. I hope it pays off, tonight._

At last, Lady Sonoko looked as if she were about to speak. The audience quieted.

“You have both played so beautifully,” she began, her smile like a shining Buddha, full of delight. “I have so enjoyed listening to both of you. But I must select a victor…” she looked at both men and smiled, one after the other. “I choose…” she looked at them both again, in turn, as if trying to make up her mind. “I choose… Camui Gakuto. You win the biwa competition!”

Applause.

Yoshiki hid his disappointment well; he smiled and bowed towards Lady Sonoko. _How could she pick him?_ He wondered. _Was his music truly sweeter than mine?_ He looked at the younger man – he was as surprised at Yoshiki, but not nearly as good at hiding it. He looked sad, somehow – _why are you sad? You won. You beat me. And now I have to endure the rest of this evening and laugh, and pretend everything is fine. How annoying. All I want to do is wash my face and go to sleep._

After the contest, everyone was free to roam around the garden and admire the sky, filled with stars. As soon as he could manage to slip away from chatting with the Emperor’s women, Gakuto looked for Yoshiki. He found the older man sitting on the bench by the fish pond, staring at the moon reflected in the water. Yoshiki’s face in the clear water looked sad.

“Yoshiki,” Gakuto spoke softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I did not know I would win.” Yoshiki looked at the other man through the water, and did not move.

“Gakuto, I am tired.” He said at last. “I am tired of all of this.”

“All of what?” Gakuto asked earnestly. “Yoshiki, please let me apologize for…”

“It’s fine,” Yoshiki interrupted. “I wanted desperately to be a friend to you. But I have allowed my jealousy to cloud my heart, and it has hardened me. I cannot even bear to look at you,” he turned to face the other man, but kept his eyes fixed on the grass at his feet. “Why is that?”

Gakuto’s eyes softened; at last, he understood. He looked around to confirm that they were alone, and, once satisfied of their privacy, he took the other man’s hand. Yoshiki at last looked up into Gakuto’s eyes.

“Gakuto, what…” he whispered, but could not finish his thought. Gakuto pressed his lips to the other man’s cheek, silencing him. _What is this?_

The young man smiled. “Yoshiki, these last weeks have been a torture for me. I cannot bear the thought of you angry with me. It is the very last thing I want.” _Please understand me. Do not run…_

Yoshiki began to understand. “And what,” he inched closer to the other man, “is the first thing you want?”

Gakuto’s heart began to beat fast. _He is so bold… can I really do this?_ He took a deep breath. “You,” he answered, at last.

Something flashed across Yoshiki’s eyes. He smiled, and took Gakuto’s face in his hands. “Oh, you dear boy…” he whispered, kissing him softly. _What on earth am I doing?_ He wondered. _Have I wanted him for so long…?_

The cooling summer night air smelled of flowers; intoxicating them both. Yoshiki stroked the other man’s soft cheeks as he continued to kiss him, hoping that his apologetic feelings could travel through his lips. _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…_ he kept repeating. _I did not see how dear you had become to me…_

The pair were interrupted by the sound of footsteps across the wooden bridge that cut through the pond; they broke apart, flustered by the intrusion. _I hope no one saw that,_ Gakuto thought. Before he could say anything, Yoshiki whispered into his ear, “come back to my room” he tugged on the young man’s sleeve, smiling. “We won’t be missed. The Emperor and ministers are drunk, the contest is over. We no longer have to stay at the ceremony.” Gakuto nodded, and followed.

*

At last back in his room, Yoshiki exhaled. Before he slid his papered door shut, he stuck his head out and made sure that no one else was around. Satisfied, he quickly returned and poured sake for them both.

“Yoshiki, I…” Gakuto began, the boldness from before having all but fled. He stared at his hands. “I have so much to tell you…”

Yoshiki rested a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “We are alone now, and no one will disturb us. Speak your mind.” He sat down close to the other man and began to unpin his hair, noting how soft it was. He gently massaged Gakuto’s scalp as he retrieved the pins. Gakuto sighed into the other man, enjoying the feeling of his touch.

“Yoshiki,” he began again, “You have taken such care of me, since I first arrived. I could not help the feelings that began to grow. When you became angry with me, I didn’t know what to do. I could not bear to lose our friendship.”

“I am sorry, Gakuto,” Yoshiki said softly. “It is all my fault.”

“Why?”

“Because I could not see my jealousy for what it truly was… but you,” he pressed a kiss to the young man’s forehead. “You knew it, didn’t you?”

Gakuto smiled. “In truth, I was not certain of it until this evening. I hoped you felt the same way about me as I did about you, but I did not know until tonight.”

Satisfied that he had removed all the pins from the young man’s hair, he sat close to him and rested his head on his shoulder. Gakuto patted his knee. “What do we do, now?” He asked, voice suddenly unsure. He was reminded of how painful it had been for Ukyō to have to hide their relationship from the world – _can I do this, all over again?_ He wondered. “Yoshiki, I must tell you… I loved someone very deeply, once. He was beautiful; we loved each other since childhood. No one knew, of course, though my elder sister always suspected. She took such care of me, when he died.”

Yoshiki was taken aback, suddenly regretting every cruel thing he ever said to the young man. “You too… you have lost someone you loved, as I did?” His eyes began to fill with tears, despite himself. “I am sorry, Gakuto… I have been so cruel to you,” he brought his hands to his eyes, hiding himself from the other man. “How could you love someone like me, who is so cruel to you?”

Gakuto smiled warmly, and held Yoshiki’s hands, bringing them away from his face. “I knew you did not mean it,” he whispered, kissing his cheeks, salty with tears. “I knew that behind your jealousy and your cold words, you must understand.”

“Oh, you dear boy…” Yoshiki repeated, trying to laugh to stop his tears. “How can someone as youthful and beautiful as you be so wise?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Gakuto drew the other man close. “Everything is alright.” He held Yoshiki for a few moments, listening to his breathing even out as he stopped sobbing. After a while, he helped Yoshiki unpin his hair, just as the older man had done for him. He ran his hands through the long black hair, noting how it smelled of flowers. He twirled the strands in his fingers, and after a while found himself caressing the other man’s jawline with a thumb. The night continued to pass in a comfortable silence, their rivalry completely forgotten; what would happen next, neither man could say. But now, at least, they would be able to rely on each other, only saying each other’s name with love on their tongues.


End file.
